Sucker's Luck
by MadnessJones
Summary: Doug Rattman has one final plan to save himself and Chell, but what will it cost him? A look inside Rattman's mind as he and Cube try to escape Aperture once and for all. My first fanfiction. Takes place between Portal 1 and Portal 2.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Darkness. All he could see was darkness. Doug Rattman didn't know how long he had been asleep in that relaxation chamber, or even how badly injured he would still be. All he knew was that numbness had given way to a shooting pain in his leg and a ghastly brown scab was forming around the bullet wound the turret had so mercilessly delivered when he went to turn on the reserve grid.

That grid went to about 10,000 relaxation chambers, including both Chell's room and the one he was in. There were over 200,000 vaults in total if one included the relaxation vaults, temporary stasis vaults, and rejuvenation vaults; which were little more than jars with formerly injured people inside of them.

Doug had considered placing himself in one of those instead of this cheap white room where his wound would fester, but they were on the other side of the facility. Besides, he needed to be able to set the wake-up time.

How long did he set it for again? He couldn't remember anymore.

As he turned to get up, his foot hit something hard and metallic. It made a hollow sound, and he grabbed his sore foot immediately!

He looked down and saw the offending object was none other than Cube, his most trusted friend in the world. It was a miracle! Cube really _had_ waited all this time for him!

 _Doug…_ Cube spoke _. I'm so glad you're awake. We have to get out of here! This place isn't the same as it was. We have to leave now!_

Doug nodded and went for his bindle. He carefully placed Cube inside and hoisted it onto his back. This time there would be no variables. They would find an escape route, go back to wake up the other test subjects, and then make their way to freedom!

And of course, his lady, his angel…Chell would lead them out.

When he went outside the vault he couldn't believe his eyes! The whole place was falling apart! It was overgrown and barren, and he was sure he saw a black bird flying in the halls!

The bird was probably watching him. They did that. They watched people, just waiting for you to let your guard down.

Watching… **wait**!

"Where is _she_?" Doug asked out loud; his voice barely above a whisper.

No, this facility wasn't _really_ turning into a jungle! It all made sense now! _She_ was using this as another test! _She_ knew he was awake, and _she_ was going to kill him! _She_ was waiting for him to show himself, and then _she_ would kill them both! _She_ would rip Cube to pieces and make him watch! _She_ would taunt him, insult him, and blame Doug for everything _she_ did to him! _She_ was a monster that had eyes in the walls and would see everything he did or said and _she_ would **kill him**!

He slunk beside the wall and slid along as quickly and silently as he could. It was no easy feat with a companion cube strapped to his back, but he was sure he had managed it.

He soon found an open panel in the wall and leapt inside before anything could see him! The turrets, the party escort bots, the cameras in the walls…there was no safe place! He rarely returned to the dens he had been to before. It was too risky, but he was running out of fresh places to hide, and now he wasn't even sure if he could find food anymore! Were there any cans of beans left? Ugh, it made him gag just thinking about having to eat beans again for the hundredth time in a row!

He took out a black marker and an orange pastel and began to mindlessly paint the wall. A little creative work always took his mind off his troubles. Sometimes he wondered why he was a scientist at all when art was his real passion.

Of course he knew why. He thought back to his parents. His father was a nuclear physicist and his mother was one of the first women ever hired by Black Mesa as an engineer. They were both academics, and expected great things from him.

Doug was an only child, so his parents focused a lot of attention on him. They pushed him to pursue a career in science. He graduated 3rd in his class, and soon was being courted by both Black Mesa and Aperture Science Innovators. His mom insisted he work for Black Mesa, but by that point in his life he was tired of his family controlling his life, so he joined Aperture out of spite.

That, in retrospect, was a bad idea.

He also remembered when he started hearing the voices. He was still in high school when it started, and at first his parents ignored it by saying it was stress. It took them several months to admit there was a problem. They admitted it after Doug cornered a random man in the street and accused the poor guy of trying to shoot him! The screaming led to fighting, and Doug nearly beat the man senseless with a trash can lid!

He was admitted to a psychiatric hospital after that, and ever since then he knew he didn't want to go back. Those people all lived in their own little world without noticing what was going on around them. Doug never thought of himself like that.

He finished his mural and turned away without looking at it. He didn't seem to notice his own work the way one would expect an artist to. No, he had no time for things like that. He needed to find food, and he needed it now.

He grabbed Cube and decided to make a run for the nearest break room. They would have to be quick. _She_ was watching; he was sure of it!

The path to the break room was blocked by a stream of vines growing out of the doorway; making it impossible to open. _She_ had done this on purpose, he just knew it!

They were in a room with ankle deep water and portal surfaces all around in a haphazard fashion. There was a staircase, but it didn't look safe to climb, so he just stood there staring at the vines covering the door and the portal walls littered with green moss.

 _Doug_ , Cube said, _Look at those vines! I think there are potatoes growing out of them!_

Potatoes? Out of vines? It seemed silly, but then again this was Aperture. There was no telling what insanity could come from this place. Also, if Cube said it, then it must be so. Doug had heard many voices in his life. Most of them bullied and mocked him. His voices would insult his intelligence, his ideas, his appearance, and anything else he was insecure about. Not Cube though. Cube was helpful and kind. Cube was truly his best friend.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Sure enough, there were potatoes growing out of vines in the wall! He wasn't sure if they were real or not, so he gingerly touched one of them. Yes, solid! It was really there! He wouldn't have to eat beans tonight!

But wait! He didn't have a way to cook the potato! Ugh, he would have to eat it raw…

He wondered if raw potatoes were even safe to eat. He should've known the answer to that. After all, he was one of his generations' brightest minds. Yet he couldn't remember if potatoes were safe to eat raw or not. Hiding all this time was starting to take a toll on what was left of his mind.

Oh well, it didn't matter. He would eat it. He had to. If raw potatoes were poison then it was at least better than being crushed or gassed by _her_.

Doug knew from the start that GLaDOS was a bad idea! Why didn't anyone _listen_ to him? He thought it was a bad idea even before he found the top secret files that told the true story of the project. GLaDOS wasn't just a computer. She was a person once; a former employee named Caroline. He didn't know Caroline very well, but he still vaguely remembered the face. Dark hair, brown eyes…How she must have suffered! Stuffing a living mind into a machine! It was madness!

It reminded him of Schrodinger's cat experiment. He was thinking of that one a lot lately. Still, it was true. Caroline was simultaneously alive and dead. GLaDOS was Caroline, and yet she wasn't. She didn't remember her old life, but she clearly still had her old personality. According to Henry, Caroline was level-headed but just about as amoral as Cave Johnson was when it came to science. No wonder they got along so well…

 _Schrodinger's cat…Chell…angel…_

His thoughts danced around his head, and he was barely able to concentrate on eating his hard and disgusting potato. Caroline was both alive and dead, and his lady was both alive and dead. Until someone opens the box. Of course, they had opened GLaDOS's box, and all they got for their efforts was deadly neurotoxin. Of course his lady would never betray him like that. She glided from one test to the other with ease, and she would surely lead everyone safely out. Well, as soon as Doug _found_ a way out…

He suddenly noticed a panel that was ajar and pushed it aside to see if there was anything useful to be found.

He couldn't believe it! It was one of his old dens! He didn't even remember this den, and the room he was in now certainly didn't look familiar. The time in the extended relaxation chamber must have done a number on his head!

Inside he found some old paint cans. They were closed and still partially full. This was perfect! He could work out his thoughts and feelings by painting them!

He needed some black marker for wires…Some orange paint...On this wall some sky blue paint for the background…More orange…He could mix the white and the orange for a lovely skin tone…More orange…

Before long every portal surface in front of him was covered in his handiwork. Some of it was spontaneous, like the picture of the screaming Caroline or the stick men dying from _her_ neurotoxin. The center picture, however, was one of his best, and for once he had to stand back and stare at it.

It was a portrait of his lady. Chell was framed by a sky blue background; the color of freedom. She had her eyes closed as if she was in a serene sleep, and she was wearing her orange jumpsuit. Doug wished he could have painted something that looked better than that tacky jumpsuit, but he didn't know what she would look like outside of Aperture. He longed for the day when he could find out.

* * *

"…and so when the project was finished we realized that slowing the audio in the processors produced a creepy breathing sound instead of beeping!" Doug laughed as he related his work story to Cube.

Cube laughed along with him as they shared a rare jovial moment in the bowels of the ruined facility. By this time they had made their way to an alcove behind a grate in the wall. There was nothing there now except abandoned redirection cubes and a broken test chamber.

"When we get to the surface I want to take you to the old Cineplex downtown," Doug told Cube, "I don't know if I'll have to pay for your way in, but I don't mind if I do. You're going to love the surface! The sun is so bright, and there's so much good food! I'll never have to eat beans again, and you'll never have to face another incinerator again for the rest of your life!"

It was sad really. Beans used to be one of Rattman's favorite foods, but after so many months of eating them he just couldn't stand them anymore. It was little things like that…he would probably never be able to look at beans the same way again.

"Another thing that's bothering me is the passage of time," Doug said, "How long was I asleep? I know I should remember how long I set the timer for, but I don't. Do you remember, Cube?"

 _I'm sorry, but I don't_. Cube replied solemnly.

"Oh well, no matter. We'll figure it out eventually!" Doug replied in a chipper tone of voice. He didn't want Cube to feel nervous or afraid.

He was glad this new den was out of _her_ range. He couldn't stand the silence any longer and just wanted to talk to Cube. Really, he would've talked to himself if there had been no one else.

Doug remembered when he first started taking his antipsychotic pills. He noticed that when he took them he started feeling more talkative. He realized once his head was clear that people weren't laughing at him anymore or calling him stupid for expressing his opinions. While maintaining long-term friendships was still nearly impossible, at least now he felt he could have pleasant conversations with people without them getting twitchy or avoiding him afterward.

Even now, without the meds, he still hated the sound of silence.

Silence meant two things: either awkwardness or death. In this case it meant death. He was quieter before he discovered the pills because the voices were always there to provide commentary on his life. Without them he realized his head was too quiet, and he needed to hear another voice; even if it was just his own.

Silence means death…But _whose_ death?

The memories made Doug feel awful for even daring to laugh in a place like this. This facility had been a grave for countless employees, and here he was laughing like everything was fine. It caused Doug to sink back against the wall and wring his hands together in an attempt to dispel his anxiety.

He didn't feel like talking anymore, so he drew on the walls. He drew stacks of dead bodies; the bodies of his colleagues. It wasn't a very graceful memorial, but Doug wasn't very tactful even when he had people to talk to.

He sighed and turned away from the picture; not wanting to look at his own demented thoughts any longer. Cube hummed a sympathetic song to cheer Doug up, and he was grateful to be allowed to sit in the silence and listen to his dear friend's song.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

When they made it to another den Rattman saw something that nearly made him shed a tear of joy…A radio!

It had been so long since he'd just sat down and listened to music. All he wanted now was to find a working station and listen to whatever sound came out. He hoped for music, but at this point he'd take a lousy talk show!

He fiddled with the knob until he came across a station. He couldn't believe it! It was his favorite song! Exile Vilify by The National was playing! He sat back and let his ears drink in the melodic yet haunting song. He still remembered the very first time he heard this song…

When Doug was growing up his parents insisted that he not do anything to slow down his cognitive development. They wouldn't let him watch television, they wouldn't let him read comic books, and they wouldn't let him play video games. Even the music he listened to was chosen by his parents.

His mother was a fan of Beethoven and especially loved the Moonlight Sonata in Adagio. It was an acceptable piece of music in Doug's opinion, but to this day he couldn't listen to it without thinking of his parents. It was too sad to think about them being dead, so he avoided classical music whenever he could.

His parents were the type that played Mozart when he was a baby in the hopes it would make him smarter. He couldn't believe two people of science could be so superstitious! And people thought _he_ was crazy!

Everything changed when he went to college. His dorm mate kept an extensive record collection, and one of the songs was Exile Vilify. Doug listened to it one night when he was alone in the dorm. His dorm mate was at a party, and Doug wanted some music to study by. His parents always played music when they were working, and Doug developed the same habit.

What played was so different from anything he had ever heard before. The emotions were so raw, yet the song wasn't aggressive. It was the kind of song that sounded hopeless; like the singer couldn't do anything right.

Doug knew how that felt _. Vilify. Don't even try_. Yeah, he'd felt that before. When Doug tried to convince people he wasn't hallucinating he felt like that. When one of his inventions or ideas blew up in his face (figuratively and literally) he felt that way.

 _You've got suckers luck. Feel like giving up_. Yeah, he had felt that the first time he listened to it, and he felt that here, in this test chamber alcove with Cube.

Cube wasn't much of a name for his best friend, he silently admitted to himself. To be fair, Doug had a terrible time with remembering names. He assumed it was because he was getting older. Even when he could remember names he wouldn't always call people by them. If he never used their name, then they wouldn't even notice when he eventually forgot what their name was.

Cube never seemed to mind, however. Cube was good and helpful. A bit of a snarker, but Doug didn't mind that. It meant Cube had a strong will.

One name he did remember, however, was Henry. He forgot the poor scientist's last name, but it didn't matter now.

Rattman and Henry were never close friends, but Henry was always nice enough, and he was the head of the GLaDOS project, so that technically made him Doug's boss. Henry was so proud of GLaDOS! He saw it as his chance to make history; to be remembered forever. Doug almost envied Henry's ambition. Doug could've been a go-getter as well, but he was just too cautious.

In the end Doug's way paid off.

Doug spent a few weeks living in that same den. He would venture off to find more cans of beans or more potatoes, but he would always return to that same hole in the wall.

He knew he should've left by now. He knew _she_ was watching for him, and would find him soon enough. Still, the emancipation grills were still working, and if he left now he would have to abandon his radio or else emancipate it. The music was one of the few comforts he had left, and he was loathe to leave it behind.

He and Cube had almost made the place feel like home. He had drawn a mural on the wall with black marker, and paints of white yellow and red. The picture was of an open mouth screaming as bloodied arms struggled in vain to escape. The words Vilify and Don't Even Try were written on the mural.

He had mostly left the white walls on the other side of the room alone. He had drawn a few tiny pictures on the upper wall to entertain himself, but otherwise he was content to talk to Cube, listen to music, and eat his beans.

He felt of his chin. His beard was getting longer. He still couldn't figure out how to shave in this place. He couldn't find a single razor in the bathrooms! He felt so grimy from prolonged exposure to the dust and dirt in the facility. Still, he wasn't going to complain. At least nothing had come for them yet.

 _Where are you going today_? Cube asked.

"I've already explored sector 8-97-B," Doug explained, "There is no exit there. I will probably check sector 9-97-C today. Surely there must at least be an open window to climb out from."

Doug climbed up from the space in the wall, but quickly ducked back inside when he saw something that made his heart sink…A party escort bot!

Doug hunkered down deeper into hid hiding place. He hid behind the wall next to his screaming mural. Cube stayed where it was. Cube wouldn't be suspicious to a party escort bot. They only cared about human test subjects.

Doug tried to still his heavy breathing as the evil robot's clanking footsteps drew closer. He hoped the scanners wouldn't detect his presence.

"Searching for party guests…searching…" the droid said in an eerie monotone, "Scan complete. No party guests found."

The droid activated the official test chamber door and exited without noticing Rattman or his Cube!

Doug breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He also chuckled to himself about the bot using the test chamber door. He couldn't remember the last time he actually entered or exited a room through a door. He would look for holes in the panels or stationary walls. If there was no hole, then he would resort to _making_ one by breaking the plaster or panel away.

He looked back at the walls of his den in melancholy. He had sucker's luck. He was still alive, but he was also still trapped. There were too many variables in this place. Too many droids, too many turrets, and too many catacombs to explore. Doug wondered if he would ever get out.

He knew he would have to leave this den forever or risk the escort bot finding him here, but before he left he scrawled his feelings on the clean parts of the wall. _Sucker's luck. Too many variables._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Great, just great! They had been walking around in circles for hours now! They were back at the relaxation vaults for the third time today!

Doug walked through the halls and scanned the cargo containers filled with live test subjects. It was chilling to think of all these people. Either they would die in their sleep without tasting freedom, or else they would wake up as _her_ prisoners. He had to find a way out for them! He had to find a way out so he could awaken his lady and she could save them!

He sighed as he thought about how little progress he had actually made. If he couldn't find an exit, then GLaDOS would kill them all. Yet everything was so deteriorated that nothing looked familiar anymore. How was he supposed to find a way out if he couldn't remember where he was going?

He walked slowly and carefully, sticking to the shadows, and looked at the names and serial numbers of the crates he passed.

Bethany Albright. Female. Adult. Thin. Doug read off those traits and connected them with someone he had met. She was the one who always ate an apple at lunch. She would eat with her mouth wide open and crunch so loudly that it made Rattman wish he could pull his ears out! She was so irritating!

The next name he recognized was Hugo Denisov. He was the one that wore that cologne that smelled like marijuana. It made Rattman gag just thinking about it! He also cooked his own lunch, and it always contained that limburger cheese! Ugh, he had forgotten until now just how much he hated working with Hugo!

Most of the containers had people in them Doug didn't recognize. They were of all ages, genders, races, and body types. At least _she_ was indiscriminate in her murder. Wait, no, that wasn't a good thing!

Doug held his aching head as he trudged along the hallways looking for a path he hadn't tried yet. Cube had been quiet for an uncomfortably long time, and Doug was starting to get nervous in the eerie silence.

Then, he stopped in front of a container.

It was her! It was really her! Chell, his lady, was right inside that room! He could see her sleeping form in the window, and he smiled with pride as he remembered hacking the power grid to save her and the others.

He placed his paint-stained hand on the window of her room and let his tired eyes gaze at her a few minutes longer.

"Don't think I've forgotten about you, Lady," Doug whispered to her, "I just need more time to find an exit, but don't worry. I'll find you. Forgive me for taking so long. _Forgive me_ …"

Doug was sobbing now. He couldn't even look at her without the pangs of guilt washing over him. If he hadn't been so selfish then he could've help her. He could have gone with Chell to destroy GLaDOS, but he was too afraid to face the deadly A.I. He never even let Chell know he was watching her.

He could only think of two things he had done right. He had painted directions to the central A.I. chamber, and he had hacked the power grid to keep the 10,000 test subjects alive. Other than that, he was mostly behaving as a coward.

 _You don't have to wait, you know_. Cube told him. _You can wake her up now. Of course I would prefer it if you forgot her altogether and we just left, but I know you care about her. If you have to have her with you, then just wake her up now. She can help us._

"No," Doug replied firmly, "This place is too dangerous. We're being watched, and there are too many unstable areas in the facility. If I die trying to find an exit, then at least the angel will still live to see another day. At least she'll wake up and have a chance. I can't be the one responsible. If I wake her up and she dies, then it's my fault. I can't live with that. I won't!"

 _Why do you even care?_ Cube asked. _As I recall, humans haven't exactly treated you fairly over the years. What makes you think she's different? She doesn't know you, and yet you would trust her with your life?_

"You're right, she doesn't know me," Doug agreed with Cube, "And that's _why_ she's different. She's one of the few people in this whole madhouse that won't take one look at me and think I'm crazy. Everyone underestimated me my whole life, and everyone underestimates her as well. We have a lot in common. We're both fighting a war against Aperture. The only difference is I'm supposed to be here. I'm a scientist. She's not. She a civilian. Yet, she defeated _her_. My lady is a hero, and I _do_ trust her with my life."

One being who underestimated Rattman was GLaDOS. _She_ tried _her_ best to find him after he survived _her_ neurotoxin. _She_ would pipe up over the intercom and try to coax him out by insulting him. _Her_ favorite insult was to mention his paranoid schizophrenia. _She_ told him he was too crazy to know what was real or not and that he was only imagining _her_ trying to kill him.

Yeah, crazy…Crazy like a fox! He had outrun and outsmarted _her_. He had made hiding places in a world where there were eyes everywhere! Doug Rattman had survived!

Still, even if he was shifty and clever, he knew he wasn't strong. He had hid well enough, but he could never defeat _her_. He would have stayed in his little maze forever if it weren't for his lady; his Chell. She was strong, and more importantly she was stubborn. She would never surrender to GLaDOS, and that attitude had earned her his respect.

* * *

Rattman and Cube found themselves holed up in a broken down office nook overlooking a test chamber with aerial faith plates and pits of green and amber acid. How long had it been since they woke up? Doug couldn't remember anymore. All he knew was they had to stay hidden and wait for the right moment to make a run for it. They had to find a way out of the building!

He had found another radio in the room and had hoped he could make it play music again. Of course the radio was broken, but he was sure he'd be able to fix it in short order. When he tried the knobs it let out an ear piercing screeching noise!

He also spent his time scrawling on the wall. He took out a pack of worn pastels from his lab coat pocket and began to draw. Sky blue, orange, and black coated the wall with no real purpose. Music notes, reaching hands, and other things soon filled up what was once blank space.

Before they had to abandon the den Doug tried one more time to make the radio work. He fiddled with the wires and cleaned off the residue until its inside was almost as good as new. He toggled the knobs until he heard some smooth jazz playing on the little device. Doug smiled widely at his achievement, until the jazz sound slowed to a stop and was replaced by ear piercing static again!

Doug threw the radio into the pit of acid below and held his hair in his hands in frustration! Nothing was going right today! If they tried to run now then they'd be caught, he just knew it! He had to wait for a better time.

 _What are you doing, Doug_? Cube asked.

"I'm going to sleep here one more night. Then we can move on," Doug replied wearily.

 _Well…Okay, but I'm feeling a little uneasy about this_ … Cube conceded reluctantly.

Doug nodded but didn't change his mind. He was only human, and he needed sleep. Cube couldn't understand, even if everything was said with the best of intentions. Rattman simply couldn't keep moving at such a fevered and unrelenting pace. Despite the hardness of the floor beneath him, Doug's eyes soon grew heavy and he quickly drifted off to sleep.

Doug's dreams tormented him without letup. He dreamed he was back on the Borealis project. He dreamed about when he was the one who had to tell Mr. Johnson about losing the ship that contained the full-size portal device. It was a memory, but in his dream it was distorted. Cave Johnson was 50 feet tall and was glaring at him through red optics that looked like the eye of a turret!

He ran down the corridors but couldn't get away. He whimpered as he saw that the floor was gone and the only way out was _down_! Doug wasn't afraid of heights, but that drop looked bottomless!

Next thing he knew he was in the central A.I. chamber, facing _her_! He shrank behind Cube and pleaded for mercy. _She_ didn't say anything, but he noticed the room was turning green! Then _she_ spoke…

"I would advise you to think outside the box, but it's the only thing protecting you now. Your box…with schizophrenia…" GLaDOS taunted him as he felt his lungs burn.

Then, out of nowhere, he saw an escape elevator. Inside the elevator, was his lady! Oh, his beautiful Chell had come to save him!

His voice cracked under the strain of trying to talk. Why was it so hard to speak? He had to get her attention!

"Help me…Chell!" Doug managed to scream out, "No!"

 _No_ , he couldn't believe it! She was ascending in the elevator! She was _leaving_ him to die! How could she _betray_ him like this?!

Then the neurotoxin pipes stopped spewing the noxious gas and started spurting out potatoes! The potatoes covered the room and were burying him! Doug swam in vain to try to escape the potatoes, and then they all started ringing like alarm clocks as he saw that there were wires attached to the potatoes!

" **Ahhh!** " Doug bolted upright and shivered as he looked around the room.

He couldn't remember where he was for a second. He saw Cube, and he saw his drawing on the wall, and the scattered papers on the floor.

"A dream…It was all a dream…" Doug whispered, "My lady didn't betray me. I'm still here…"

 _Doug_? Cube piped up. _Let's get out of here._

"Sure, just one more thing first," Doug replied.

He then took out his marker, and on the wall he wrote the following words:

 ** _Smooth Jazz Fails_**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Doug and Cube were in a break room looking for more canned food. He was also happy for a chance to use a real bathroom. Even though the plumbing was iffy at best, at least the toilets flushed sometimes. Heck, at least there _were_ toilets!

When Doug washed his hands he looked up at the mirror. He could see his face, but it wasn't clear like it should have been. Everything was distorted somehow. Was he really _that_ ugly? He considered taking some of his pills to clear his vision, but he couldn't risk losing Cube's voice, so he decided to just live with it.

They found a bag of rice in one of the containers. It wouldn't help. They had no way to cook it. Then again, he ate potatoes raw…

Doug grabbed a small handful of rice and started chewing it like a donkey chews straw. It was tiring work, and it tasted like thick sand, but at least it was food. He found himself chuckling thinking about those post-apocalyptic movies his old colleagues used to watch. They always made the end of the world look like an adventure. No one ever wanted to think about the little things like praying for a toilet or eating raw food that tastes like rocks.

Cube pointed out a cabinet full of cans of beans and sarcastically said: _Those are your favorite, right?_

"Very funny, Cube," Doug smiled despite his annoyance.

He loaded up his bag with cans and then strapped Cube on his back. He looked back at the lonely yellow colored break room and found himself laughing. He laughed maniacally at the room and didn't even know why anymore. All he knew was that this situation was miserable, and that made it the funniest thing ever.

* * *

The next day they found themselves behind the scenes of another test track. This one was for hard light bridges, but they didn't work anymore.

Doug loved this den because it was so _huge_! The ventilation system went through here, but besides the massive squared off pipes there was actually plenty of room to move around. Doug loved not having to crouch into a space half his size.

He noticed his pastels were getting shorter. He still had a couple black markers and plenty of orange left, as well as some yellow. He decided to use these three colors next.

He allowed his mind to go blank as he drew. Was it a picture of GLaDOS? A turret? Maybe it was a combination of GLaDOS and the party escort bot? Doug couldn't actually tell what he had even drawn, so at the bottom of the picture he wrote: _Who Are You?_

He allowed his mind to wander back to the days when he was still hiding from _her_ and secretly undermining _her_ agenda by leading Chell to the central A.I.'s lair.

At first he wasn't thinking clearly. In his own little den he wrote: _The Cake Is a Lie_ over and over again like a child being punished by writing on a blackboard. He knew cake was a silly thing to tempt a test subject with, but he also knew that GLaDOS starved her subjects, and therefore knew food would be a motivator. It certainly would motivate him now that he'd been eating raw and expired food for who knows how long.

He also remembered the last time he tasted freedom. The sun was so bright, and the air was so warm. He and Cube were actually outside, and _her_ battered metal remains littered the parking lot! Part of him had almost felt bad about it. She was once a living breathing person, and she was dead. Still, he knew she was a murderer. He did not grieve long.

Just as they were about to leave he saw the party escort bot take Chell away. He knew he owed his life to that wonderful angel, and for once in his cowardly life he wanted to do the right thing, so he went back inside to rescue her.

If only he had succeeded. If only he could've come up with a better idea. Why did he run in front of a turret? Why didn't he wake her up when he had the chance? Why was he still here? How could he protect her _now_?

He coughed violently and tried to push the thoughts away. He had been coughing a lot more lately, and he was getting weaker by the day. He looked back at his hand he had coughed into. There was blood.

"This doesn't look good…" Doug muttered to himself.

 _Thanks for that insight, Captain Obvious_. Cube retorted.

He noticed that Cube's voice was starting to take on a different tone than he had known before. It sounded familiar. Wait, this was one of his judgmental voices! His mind was going down the rabbit hole even further! Well, at least he knew he was starting to lose his grip, and maybe he could hold on longer if he just held onto that thought.

He looked again at the blood in his hand. Was it real? Was it _his_? Was he really coughing up blood? He smeared it onto his other hand to see if he could feel it. Sure enough, it was really there, and now his hands were covered in his own blood.

 _Hey Doug_ … Cube sounded like it had an idea. _We should get you to the Aperture Science medical wing. There might still be some functional scanners that could tell you what's wrong with your body._

Doug didn't like the sound of that idea. It would take hours to get there from here and they might run into a turret range or party escort bot on the way there.

Still, they were out of options. He would have to try something risky if he was to save himself and Cube.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

It took longer than he had expected for them to get there. Doug was so tired, and it seemed like he was running out of breath more quickly. Cube urged him to keep going before they got caught, and Cube's brave words were the only thing that kept him from giving up and dropping dead right then and there.

He had trouble keeping his thoughts at bay now. He was thinking back to the time he was assigned to his first important job at Aperture…

He was the head of the Aperture Science Portal Device Project. He would make a handheld model to prove the concept, and then he would make the full-size version for long distance travel. He could still imagine it…The raw power of a black hole allowing mankind to go anywhere in the world with the flick of a switch!

His first handheld model was a complete failure. It could shoot a single blue portal anywhere there was conversion gel, but that portal was useless without another portal to go through. Cave Johnson was getting sicker and had no tolerance for failure. He had chewed Rattman out over the failure that day, but allowed Doug to build an orange portal generator to test the single portal device.

His second attempt was even worse. He had built what he assumed was a new and improved portal device, but all it did was pick things up from long distances. To avoid looking like a fool, Doug Rattman had told Mr. Johnson it was a gravity gun, which seemed to satisfy the old man. When things went wrong was when someone had stolen his design and sold it to Black Mesa! That humiliation caused him to get demoted and to lose nearly half of his budget!

Finally, after years of trying, he perfected the schematics of the two-portal device, but Mr. Johnson didn't want him on the handheld project anymore. Mr. Johnson gave the handheld portal project to someone else, and didn't even allow Doug to be on the team of researchers for it!

Caroline was the one who had given him the task of working on the Borealis; the ship that would contain the full-size version of the portal device.

He couldn't believe his luck! He had been given another chance! He knew this time his hard work would pay off.

It didn't.

He learned later that the ship had been stolen! Some other scientists blamed it on a design flaw that caused it to randomly teleport away, but Doug knew better. Someone had stolen it! If Black Mesa could steal the gravity gun, then why not a massive ship with a portal device built into it?

He couldn't believe this! He wondered how a sweet person like his mother could ever work for such a company as Black Mesa. He knew his meeting with Mr. Johnson wouldn't go well. It didn't.

" _I can't believe this_!" Mr. Johnson boomed despite his deteriorating condition, "You, Dr. Rattman, are a crackpot, a degenerate and a complete and utter moron! How does someone lose **a** ** _GIANT BOAT_**?"

Doug was so close to losing his job that day he could taste it. Truth be told if he had known what would eventually happen, then maybe he would've let Cave Johnson fire him. Then again, if he had been fired, he never would have met Cube or his lady Chell. Well, he hadn't met Chell yet, but he would.

They finally made it to the medical ward on level F-10. Doug sat there in silence as he waited for the machine to finish scanning his body for defects. Soon he would know why he was coughing up blood and feeling so weak. His breathing had become more laborious as time had gone on. He didn't know what was going on, but he knew he had to survive to free Chell and the others.

He heard a whirring noise and tensed up! He was connected to the scanning apparatus by wires taped to his skin and couldn't run away. If it was a machine coming to drag him back to the testing tracks then there was nothing he could do to stop it!

He sighed in relief when he saw a maintenance bot deftly whizzing by on the management rail. It stopped in front of the office and used its robotic limbs to repair a gaping hole in the wall.

Doug chuckled at his own jumpiness. Maintenance bots were all completely automated. They couldn't do anything without orders from the management rail. In truth they weren't so much A.I. as glorified power tools.

The medical scanner dinged that it was finished and started flashing the results on the monitor in front of him. Doug looked at the diagnosis with abject horror. Dread was clearly written on his face, and it did not escape the notice of his spectator.

 _Doug, what's wrong? What does it say?_ Cube asked worriedly.

"It's the portal surfaces…" Doug replied quietly, feeling utterly defeated, "They've been flecking due to the passage of time. I've been painting on them. I've been inhaling the dust…and now I have lunar poisoning."

Those words hung heavily in the air for some time before Doug heard his Cube ask him: _How long do you have left?_

"According to the data…" Doug said in a detached and stoic voice, "A few days. A week if I'm lucky."

Then, after another long stint of stillness and silence:

"I'm a failure," Doug whispered to the air, "I let her down. I let them all down. I'll never see the sun again. I'll die here wracked in pain and mocked by _her_. How did this all go _so wrong_?"

Cube didn't answer him. Somehow Cube's silence hurt worse than the pain in his chest. He knew what the pain was now, and it wasn't heartbreak. It was his lungs being cut to shreds by tiny pieces of lunar dust. The moon was so beautiful. How could it be so toxic?


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Doug had started collecting coffee mugs again. He did that when he was feeling low and needed something else to do. He could only drink water out of them, but the familiar weight of a mug in his hands gave him comfort.

This next den he'd picked, his coffin, had been in retrospect a very poor choice. It was so far from anything useful that it seemed like a good choice to hide from _her_ , and it had seemed big enough for him to pace around in, but there was a ceiling fan below his feet. The motion of that fan made shadows dance around the room that drove Rattman even further into madness!

He wasn't thinking clearly anymore. His moon rock poisoning, his schizophrenia, and his feelings of guilt combined into a torrent of pain, stress, and insanity.

"No, Mr. Johnson… _No_!" his voice was squeaking out the words as he sobbed and ran his fingers through his greasy black hair, "They're all dead! What! It's been **stolen**! Pease, no… **Help me, Chell**!"

He paced across the room, his shoes clacking against the metal grating of the ceiling fan. He had arranged the worn coffee mugs in a manner only he could understand. He had swirling visions of his lady conquering the dragon GLaDOS. Wait, had that actually happened? Had he ever tasted freedom? Was it all just a hallucination? Where was he now?

He started painting again with the paints he had brought up to the lonely ceiling lair. Where had he gotten the paints? He didn't even remember.

He thought painting his lady would make him feel better. It did the first time. This time, however, instead of a sleeping angel he saw a decaying and contorted woman in a relaxation vault being tormented by _her_ and drawn into the line of fire of the evil turrets!

The turrets. How he hated them! The screams of a thousand dead were because of them! If only he could hear _them_ scream that way…

He vaguely remembered repairing turrets as part of his job. How long ago was that? Probably a very long time due to the stasis. Still, it felt like yesterday. Doug felt sick to his stomach thinking about helping to repair those monsters. Or maybe that sickness was the moon rock poisoning.

He wasn't really eating anymore. There didn't seem to be any point. He would be dead soon, and his Cube would be alone again. His lady would be forced to test forever. He sometimes thought he saw Cave Johnson laughing at him. He'd also see his coworkers laughing at him. Oh, they were disgusting! He was so distraught when they died, but now he didn't know why! He hated them!

 _No you don't, Doug_. Cube replied to his unspoken thought. _You're just sick. You will always see the worst in people when you're sick. Don't worry. I'll be with you until the end._

The end. That snapped Doug out of his stupor. How much time had he wasted? He was still alive! He might only have a day or two, but his lady needed him, and he needed to make these final moments count!

But how? He needed an idea. This was his last chance to prove himself! He had to think of something brilliant to save the other people in Aperture!

"How could you do this to us, Caroline?" Doug asked somberly, "I know what they did as wrong…I know you didn't want to live forever as a heartless machine. I know I wouldn't. Still, was your life really worth the countless deaths you caused? Couldn't you have done something better with your second chance?"

Second chance…

That was when it clicked for Doug! He realized that there was still something he could do to help Chell! Still, it would cost him dearly. He would die anyway, but this idea might actually cost him _more_ than his life…

Cube had protested the whole way there, but Doug wasn't listening anymore. He knew what to do to protect the humans!

 _Doug, you're not thinking clearly!_ Cube pleaded. _Don't do this!_

Doug paid no heed to the heart-lined parcel on his back. He knew where he was going, and he knew just what he needed to do! He would protect his lady, and maybe, just _maybe_ , he would feel the soft outdoor breeze again. Maybe…

He opened the double doors to a part of Aperture that looked abandoned when it was new, and didn't look any better now: the corrupted core bin.

He could hear three cores arguing with each other, one babbling about space, and another one screaming that it was drowning in Lake Michigan! Doug had forgot how loud this room was!

Cube was clearly miffed, but he didn't have time for that now. Doug ignored the active spheres and went to the bin on the right: dead cores. He needed a dead core shell if his plan was going to work. Oh, it just _had_ to work!

Most of the dead cores were so badly damaged that they would fall apart in his hands. Doug sifted through all of them before he found one that looked suitable. It still had its body intact, and the circuitry seemed fine. All it needed was some repairs to the CPU unit and cooling system.

It had taken quite a while before Doug could find a workshop. It wasn't that far away, but Doug was carrying Cube _and_ a 40 lb. personality sphere. Even though this was the place where evils were born, somehow Doug found it comforting to be back in his element. He had cut his teeth in these workshops, and his old office looked very similar to the room he occupied now. Sadly, he couldn't even remember who previously occupied this office.

 _Exile. It takes your mind. Again._

That song was stuck in Doug's head again. It felt very appropriate. He had been swaying in and out of sanity for days now. He hadn't slept in almost 30 hours because he knew his time was too short to waste. He worked for hours making sure the core was perfect. He couldn't afford to screw up now.

 _You don't even know what it was for._ Cube reminded him. _What if it's the Pyromania Core or the Gardening Core?_

"It doesn't matter what it _was_ for," Doug replied, "All that matters is what goes into it _now_."

He was sweating as he sat down on the steel table. This was taking too long, and he was starting to cough up blood again. He didn't have time for this!

 _Cores don't move_. Cube pointed out _. How can a core help anyone if it can't move around?_

"I thought of that already," Doug replied weakly as he stifled another cough.

He fingered the attachment he added to the top of the core. It was a small plug that would connect to the management rails of the maintenance bots. Along with movement, this would also allow the core to charge itself indefinitely; assuming it never tried to jump off.

He trailed off to think about Caroline's files. He remembered the picture of her prone body. The photographer had captured her final breath. She looked so old and miserable. She had been awake for the procedure. It was necessary. That thought made Doug shudder then, and it _really_ made his skin crawl now.

 _You don't have to do this, Doug!_ Cube said desperately _. Let her go! Let her test in Aperture! We can leave together still! We can spend your final moments in the sunshine and sit together in the green grass and watch the clouds go by!_

" **No**!" Doug screamed at Cube, but then in a quieter tone said "No…I can't betray her. If the tables were turned, she would never leave me here to die."

Doug heaved a rattled sigh and coughed more blood onto his lab coat sleeve. He placed the wires inside the core, and then took the other ends in his hands. They were like suction cups, but they had four prongs attached to the end. This was going to hurt. This was going to _really_ hurt!

Doug sat back down, in a chair this time, and placed the little suction claws on his forehead, temples, and scalp. He cried out in pain but didn't stop what he was doing. He worried this might be a bad idea. Caroline's head had been shaved before the procedure, but Doug couldn't shave his head here. He had to clamp the chords on over his scruffy hair. He hoped it would still take.

 _Does it feel like a trial? Does it trouble your mind the way you trouble mine?_

He really needed to get that song out of his head if he was going to concentrate. Caroline had been angry when the personality upload happened. Doug would need to stay calm if he wanted his new mind clear.

Part of him couldn't believe he was doing this! Doug hated the idea of human minds being dumped into an artificial construct! He hated it ever since he first laid eyes on GLaDOS! Still, they were out of options.

 _A:/core_appsphere_ _upload_

 _C:/Upload human consciousness to Aperture Science construct y/n?_

 _Y/_

 _C:/ Are you sure?_

 _Y/_

"Powering up," the announcer's automated voice boomed, "Prepare for transfer of consciousness. Upload commencing. 1%. 1%. 2%."

Judging from the speed, Doug figured it would take about four hours. He just had to stop himself from dying for that long. He just had to keep his mind calm and focused for that long.

"Okay, think happy thoughts…where have I been happy?" Doug said out loud to try to focus his mind.

He thought about Aperture Science. Weird as it was most of his memories, good and bad, were made here. It might've been the place that took everything from him, but it was also the place that gave him so much. It gave him Cube. Cube was his only friend, and the best friend he'd ever had.

"Sad that artificial life can be a better friend that humans most of the time," Doug thought out loud as the upload was at 9%.

This made him think of his coworkers. Henry was the closest one to a friend he had in the facility, but he wasn't truly a friend. He belittled Doug's warnings and ideas. He was so focused on the GLaDOS project that he couldn't see the writing on the wall!

Was everyone around him an idiot? How could they not _know_?

He remembered the clacking of Dr. Stone's gaudy jewelry grating in his ears and Hugo Denisov coming to work smelling like weed and bad European cheese! He thought about the laughter from his colleagues when he discussed developing floating dirt for a floating island to protect them when the world overflowed with lava and ash!

"No! Think better thoughts!" Doug chastised himself.

He tried to think of something else. He thought of the children from the Aperture Science day care center. He never had children of his own, but part of him had always wanted kids. He remembered the last Bring Your Daughter to Work Day. He had actually been assigned as one of the judges for the children's projects. He wasn't fond of the assignment, but it was nice to see the girls and their bright and happy faces.

That day was a tainted memory, however. That was one of the first times GLaDOS had tried to release neurotoxin into the facility. They shut her down quickly, but it wasn't quick enough. One of the girls, only 4 years old, had inhaled too much of the toxin and died a few days later. Her father quit after that. He was so lucky…

What was that man's name again? Doug couldn't remember anymore. But he remembered the man worked in the shower curtain division of the facility. _You'd never know it_ , Doug thought _, considering he always smelled like urine_.

He tried to refocus to better thoughts. He focused on the best thought ever; his Chell. He thought about her sleeping form. He thought about how she'd defeated _her_. He thought about how skillfully she jumped from one obstacle to the next. She was the reason he would never give up. Because she never gave up.

He had a job to do. His father had drilled it into his head from an early age: If you aren't useful, then you aren't anything. He had a duty to fulfill by protecting his lady and the rest of the people in those relaxation vaults.

 **Wait**! What if _she_ could scan the thoughts of the personality spheres? Oh, he hadn't thought about that…

No, focus! Thoughts! Now!

The upload was at 43% and slowly rising. Doug was having even greater difficulty gathering his thoughts in a meaningful way. Even Cube's voice was silent now. All he had left was the passage of time and his own thoughts to keep him company. What thoughts would keep him grounded? Of course, his job!

His job…His career? He had many different jobs in Aperture. He invented, he tested, and he worked with preexisting concepts. He started as an intern on the factory floor, and worked his way up to a member of the coveted GLaDOS project. He might've even enjoyed his work, if he didn't have to worry about _her_.

 _Doug…_ Cube's voice sounded so weak now. _Don't…Don't leave me…_

Cube's voice was almost background noise to the greater thoughts occupying his mind. He thought about the Borealis again. It had come up a lot lately in his mind. Mr. Johnson never forgave him for that screw up, and he never truly recovered his position after that. He could still hear that man ranting at him…

 _You are a crackpot… A complete and utter_ _ **moron**_ _!_

" _No_! **No**!" Rattman's voice was cracking as he sobbed; a combination of the pain and the traumatic memories made even worse by his deteriorating mental state, " _You're_ _wrong_! I can still fix this! I can still be useful! I'm _not_ worthless! I'm not a moron!"

 _A:/core_appsphere_ _upload 93%_

His thoughts became more erratic, until most of them were gone. He tried to hold onto something tangible in his mind, but it was getting more and more difficult.

"Chell…Must escape…Must get out…Humans…Help them…Awful people…Try to stop _her_ …I'm not…I can…Potatoes…Watching…Birds…Lady…Must not…Forget…I must get out…Must get back to work…Both alive…and dead…"

"Personality upload complete!" the announcer dutifully said over the speakers, "Power up initiating."

The wires disconnected from the core automatically. From the management rail a little pinprick of light came on in the center of the core, and then soon swelled to a bright blue light.

The core shook itself awake and looked around the room. It swiveled on the rail but didn't seem to notice. It gave a passing glance to the dead man sitting in the chair covered in paint, marker, and blood. It looked over at the scattered mess of broken turrets and portal devices and the lone cube in the room.

Without a backward glance the little core slid away on its management rail.

The cube stayed silent, and it would stay silent forever. Doug was dead, and the cube's voice had died with him.


	8. Epilogue

Epilogue

The core glided along the management rail for almost 20 minutes before a wary thought finally came to him.

"Oi, wait a minute! Who am I?" The core suddenly asked itself, "Okay, let's see if my name is in the database…Intelligence Dampening Sphere. Well now that's a right stupid name! How can you get an abstract concept like intelligence _wet_?"

The core thought long and hard. He needed a name. A real name. One that was a true statement of his personality and life goals. Or barring that, a name that no one would make fun of.

He rode around on his management rail for a few more minutes trying to think of a cool name when something magnificent suddenly caught his eye!

It was a window. He didn't know why, but that was the single most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life! Granted, he was only minutes old, but it was still just tremendous!

He found himself drawn to the scene just outside the window. He swiveled his body around to get a better look.

Oh! It was glorious! There was a beautiful sunset outside with a red, yellow, and orange sky. For some reason he loved the color orange, but he didn't remember why. There was the sun metaphorically waving goodbye to the earth as it ducked away to make room for another night. There was a field of wheat in full bloom ready for harvest. It looked like pure gold in the dim sunlight.

"Wheat…Hm…Is Wheat a good name?" the core asked, "No, no it's not. But hey, I got an idea! Wheat…Lee! Wheatley! That's a fine name, isn't it? Brilliant!"

He looked at the sunset until it turned to night. He looked at the stars and the moon until the wee hours of the morning. He didn't want to leave this beautiful scene, but what could he do? He couldn't get out.

"Wait! All I have to do is unplug myself from my management rail, and turn on my flashlight to see by! Haha! It's brilliant!" Wheatley shouted triumphantly.

 _No…_ Came a strangely familiar voice. _If you do that, then you'll die! You don't_ want _to die, do you?_

"Wha-! Who said that?" Wheatley asked nervously. That voice sounded so very ominous, and yet he knew he'd heard it before, "Wait, when you said I would die, did you mean from disengaging from my management rail or turning on my light? Because that's important information, mate!"

 _Both_. Came the threatening reply.

"Oh…" Wheatley replied dejectedly, "Oh well. Thanks, helpful stranger!"

With that Wheatley left the window and decided to try to find out where he worked in this place. He didn't remember where he needed to be exactly, all he knew was that his work was vitally important. He was a very important core, and he needed to get back to work immediately. Besides, the window taunted him with promises of a better life he just couldn't reach.

"Manufacturing! That's an important job! This has to be where I work!" Wheatley said excitedly as he made his way to the manufacturing supervisor.

Wheatley reported to the foreman for duty, fully expecting to be given an assignment on the spot. He was soon disappointed.

" _The IDS does not work here_!" the foreman screeched out in a metallic voice.

"What? Are you daft? I have to work here! It's one of the best jobs in the whole facility!" Wheatley protested.

" _Scanning worker placement chip…"_ the foreman intoned, " _Scan complete. You are to report to the extended relaxation vaults. Your job is relaxation vault supervisor."_

" _What_? That can't be right!" Wheatley argued, "I don't want to work with all the smelly humans! Nobody cares about them! Come on, give me a better job to do! You'll see, I'm very capable!"

The foreman would accept no argument, however. Somehow Wheatley had been programmed as the bloody human babysitter! Not only that, but it turned out that there _was_ a job opening in manufacturing, but the foreman made a copy of himself to do the job rather than let Wheatley anywhere near the factory floor!

Feeling dejected, Wheatley ran off and went to the relaxation vaults. Before he made his way there, however, he noticed that his management rail went beside a room that said GLaDOS CONTROL ROOM and under that said OUT OF ORDER.

Wheatley didn't know why, but something about that room sent shivers down his processor. For some reason, only one word came to his mind when he saw that menacing sign. _Her_.

End? y/n

 **Author's Note: I was inspired to write this fic because someone very close to me has paranoid schizophrenia, and when I played Portal 2 I realized that Wheatley fits the profile for the disorder better than most actual portrayals of paranoid schizophrenics in media. He's jumpy, talks about random people cruelly telling him that he's not allowed to do anything, the symptoms are not apparent when you first meet him, he takes risks despite constant feelings of terror because avoiding danger won't make the adrenaline go away, he has an addictive personality due to the constant stress in his body and mind, and he creates (often negative) false memories to support his worldview. Oh, and the symptom nobody likes to talk about: in certain cases Paranoid Schizophrenics will become suspicious of their closest loved ones and have a desire to kill them that wears off after a few hours; leaving pangs of remorse in the wake of the outburst. The disorder can also leave the nasty side effect of an inferiority complex due to unaffiliated people being unwilling to listen to them or else laughing at them when they try to explain what's going on in their head. Please understand that Paranoid Schizophrenia and Schizophrenia are not the exact same disorder, but both involve delusions that can either be memory-based, auditory, or in rare cases visual.**

 **I also like the character of Doug Rattman. I think this portrayal of the disorder is also a good one, because rather than being a maniac he's a grieving person who happens to have paranoid schizophrenia, yet that has very little to do with his predicament. Wheatley seems to have a lot in common with Doug Rattman, so I thought it would be interesting if Rattman and Wheatley were the same person the way GLaDOS and Caroline were the same person. It would explain why Wheatley is the only core on a management rail** **J**

 **That being said, I just realized that my author's note is getting too long. Sorry about that. This is the first time I've ever written a fan fiction online, and I just wanted to share my thought process. Please rate and review** **J**


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